Praise You, Lord, that it pleased Your heart to give faces to pansies. Praise You Lord, that they unfurl in the sun, thrive in the shade, blooming where planted as long as we are needful of their care. Praise You, Lord, for the soft, sweet perfume that rewards the one who will stoop close.
Praise You, Lord, for dominion over fish of the sea, birds of the air, plants yielding seed, that we might with gentle respect pinch off the spent bloom, keeping the flowers, the flowers, the beautiful flowers, coming, coming, and coming still, in their colors, their hope, the unique flesh of their petals. Till autumn hints of chill, whispers of frost, and we the earth's caregivers bow to flowers' destiny--to form and scatter seed--that we may again dream of pansies in the spring.
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